The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon
by Detafo
Summary: My First CSI Story. After Sara leaves Grissom, they both remember their relationship in the past. Please reivew.
1. Chapter 1

**The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon**  
_Risty Maskell_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of CBS's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. **__**For non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The persons, living or dead, and events described herein are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.**_

She'd written the letter hurriedly, wanting to get it done and be out of the office before he returned. Trying to control her tears, she slipped the letter into an envelope and sealed it, leaving it with Judy at the front desk. With a wobbly smile and a farewell to the receptionist, Sara Sidle left the building.

Gil Grissom was sitting at his desk, reading and re-reading the note that Sara had left behind. She was gone… he sighed, wondering where he'd gone wrong. He sat thinking for a moment as his mind turned over the recent events to shake up his life. Getting up and grabbing his coat, he made his way quickly out of the office, hurrying past Catherine without so much as a hello.

"Hey, Gil! Where are you going?" Catherine asked, watching him flee.  
"I've got something important to do!" Gil answered, pausing at the door. "Do me a favour and hand out the assignments tonight, will you, Catherine?"  
"Sure, but --" But Gil was already gone. Catherine looked confused as she continued to the break room, where Warrick Brown, Greg Sanders and Nick Stokes were waiting.  
"Man, Grissom sure can motor when he wants to." Greg said with a grin. "If he wasn't such a self-confessed dork, I would have thought he was on his high-school track team."  
"Very funny." Catherine said, but all three men could see the small smile, tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Right, let's get on with it." She shuffled through the assignments and handed one to each of them. "Nick, you've got a B&E at the Majestic – someone thought it would be fun to hold up the cashier and lift the vault."  
"As long as I don't end up buried in a box, I'm cool with that." Nick said, taking the proffered assignment with a smile.  
"Warrick, you've got a hit-and-run on Industrial Road. The vic is being transported to Desert Palms Hospital."  
"You got it." Warrick said with a grin.  
"And Greg, you're with me. 4-19 at the car yard in Summerlin."  
"Yeh, boss." Greg nodded.  
"Okay, let's go guys." Catherine said with a smile. "Have a good shift."  
The four of them split and went their separate ways.

Gil knocked on the door of the apartment in front of him. He couldn't hear anything on the inside. Knocking again, he leaned against the doorframe.  
"You ain't gonna find anyone there." A voice behind him said. Gil turned to find a wizened old woman standing there, watching him intently.  
"I'm not?" He asked. "Why not?"  
"The girl who lived there left a few hours ago. Said she needed a break. Shame, really. Nice girl, she was. One of my better neighbours."  
"Did she say where she was going?" Gil asked.  
"Sorry." The woman shrugged, looking somewhat apologetic. "All I know is what she told me. She needed some time out and put her apartment up for rent."  
"Well, did she say when she was coming back?" He asked, trying to keep his composure.  
"Nope." The woman shook her head.

Gil's heart seemed to slow to half-speed as he thanked the woman and made his way slowly out to the car. Driving back toward LVPD, he mused as to what had made Sara just up and leave so suddenly. His only conclusion was the previous case they'd worked on-- the one with the really smart kid, what was her name? Hannah. He'd seen her looking at this little girl and had been reminded of when they'd had to deal with her two years ago. He knew it had been hard for Sara.

Gil sighed and parked the car and walked into the building. Walking back toward his office, a thousand thoughts tumbling about in his mind, he sat down in his chair and sat to mull things over for a while.  
"Gil?" Catherine peeked into Grissom's office to find him staring blankly at the phone, as if willing it to ring and it to be Sara. "Grissom? You okay?"  
He looked up at her and Cath was frightened by what she saw. His eyes were unreadable and his left hand was clenching and unclenching around a pen, as if he were angry about something.  
She walked into his office and sat across from her friend. "Wanna talk about it?"  
"About what?" He asked, quietly.  
"I don't know." Cath shrugged. "Whatever it is that's making you so pissed off?"  
Gil opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. Wordlessly, he handed Sara's note to Catherine and let her read it while he sat in silence, contemplating. Cath read the note, her eyebrows raising so that they were lost under her bangs.  
"And you don't know where she's gone?"  
"No." Gil sighed. "Do you think I did something wrong, Cath?"  
"Oh, Gil. I'm sure you didn't." Catherine offered him a reassuring smile. "If I know Sara, she'll be back when she feels better. We all need a break sometimes, and she's had a lot to deal with in a short period of time. She probably felt like she short-circuited or something."  
"You think?" He looked imploringly at the strawberry blonde woman sitting across from him.  
"Give her time." Cath patted his hand reassuringly. "I've got to get back to Hodges and see if he has my results." She got up and headed toward the door. Turning back, she looked at her supervisor seriously. "I know you don't believe in pouring your heart out to people, Gil." She said softly. "But you know where I am if you ever need to talk."  
"Thank you, Catherine." He said sincerely. Cath nodded, smiled again and left him alone. Gil sat back, his elbows resting on the armrests of his chair, his fingers steepled as he leaned back. A memory bubbled up from the back of his mind and he closed his eyes to see it more clearly.

_It was the beginning of term semester at Berkeley University in San Francisco. Gil had been invited on a four week Sabbatical, teaching about new developments in the crime lab. Mainly for Criminology students, it had been a surprise to see how many other students had turned up at the lectures. A few of his friends and fellow professors had teased him, saying he was a shameless flirt and that's what drew people to him in hordes. Gil had ignored them up to a point. _

_After a gruelling lecture, addressing four hundred plus students in a large auditorium on the subject of determining time of death from studying blowfly larvae, he'd been hit up on questions from some of the more promising students. One student in particular had hung back until the crowd of students had gone._

"_Excuse me, Doctor Grissom?" She'd asked.  
He'd looked up to see a petite young woman, with short, chestnut brown hair and expressive, coffee-coloured eyes standing on the opposite side of the desk, waiting to be addressed._  
"_Yes?" He asked with a smile._  
"_Sara Sidle." She offered her hand to shake, which Gil accepted warmly._  
"_I was wondering if you could give me any tips on how to get into Criminology?"_  
"_What's your speciality, Ms Sidle?"_  
"_Material and element analysis." _

_They'd talked for most of the afternoon, causing Sara to miss a class ("It's okay, it was only listening to Professor Mason waffle on in a barely audible whisper." She'd said when he'd apologised.) They agreed to meet again in the following day's lunch hour and free period to discuss some more employment options. Even after their brief meeting, Gil had been looking forward to seeing the inquisitive young woman again. Once they had parted ways, however, Gil had been cornered by his old friend and mentor, Phillip Gerard._

"_I hear you were subjected to the Sidle Inquisition." Phillip stated._  
"_The what?" Gil asked, a little taken aback._  
"_Sara Sidle, Gil. Word has it that you were cornered for a good hour and a half. I'm sorry."_  
"_What are you sorry for? I think she's a lovely girl."_  
"_You wait, Gil. You won't think she's so lovely after a while." Phillip said with a grin. "She's a vulture. Always circling for more scraps of information… she's driven the Coroner half mad with questions on time of death and cause of death and whatever other information she can get her hands on."_

"_That just goes to show she's willing to learn." Gil said, indifferently. "You don't see many of those, these days, Phillip."_

"_Yes, I seem to remember you being the same." Phillip conceded, rolling his eyes. "Except at least you were interested in other things -- baseball, poker… you had other interests… Sara just has one set interest -- Criminology. No diversions."_  
"_I'm sure she has other diversions, Phillip. Besides, she was only asking me on employment advice."_  
"_To each their own, I suppose." Phillip shrugged with a rueful smile. "Don't say I didn't warn you."  
Grissom had had nothing to say to that, and even if he had, he wouldn't have. He'd never been one to engage in petty arguments._

_The next day, he'd met up with Sara and they talked some more: about Grissom's work in Las Vegas, about his team – including the newest guy, Nick Stokes, who'd just transferred from Texas A&M, about what Sara might do after college. Gil told her about what Phillip had said and she'd rolled her eyes._  
"_Everyone thinks I'm either a major brain, annoying or your garden variety kiss-ass." She said with a shrug. "I can't help it if I want to actually learn. Not like the reefers around here who just want a buzz."_  
"_I find it refreshing to find someone who genuinely wants to learn." Gil said with a smile. "It makes a nice change for me. Usually, I'm left with a room of sleeping students. Much like Andy Kaufman in one of his book readings."_

_Sara had laughed at that, before telling him that the only time he'd catch her sleeping in class would be if she was struck down with a case of narcolepsy—it hadn't happened yet and she wasn't planning on in happening either. Not now, not ever._

_During the time he spent in San Francisco, he saw more and more of Sara-- inviting her as a Criminology student assistant to a crime scene, answering her questions after classes, sitting with her at lunch period to talk about their separate days. He'd even questioned himself about feelings he hadn't felt in years. He never mentioned his feelings to Sara though. He was a private person when it came to that sort of vulnerability, and tried to convince himself that he was just very fond of the young woman. She was fifteen years his junior, for Pete's sake! At the end of his Sabbatical, he big his colleagues and friends and mentors a fond farewell, leaving Sara until last. Promising to write, they'd exchanged business cards and had hugged, somewhat awkwardly, at the airport before he boarded the plane back to Vegas._

Grissom opened his eyes at the end of the memory, looking up to see Ecklie standing there.  
"Hope I didn't disturb your little power nap, Gil." Ecklie said with a oily, sarcastic smile.  
"No, Conrad." Gil said, shuffling through some papers, discreetly placing Sara's letter under the pile. "What can I do for you?"  
"The trial for Valerie Eckman is being held tomorrow morning at ten am."  
Grissom raised an eyebrow in response. "And?" He asked. "I was under the impression that that was Day Shift's case."  
"The Day Shift Supervisor was supposed to testify, but she's had to pull out because of some family crisis or something--"  
"And you want me to take over?"  
"I have the case file here for you to read over the evidence." Ecklie said, handing Grissom the case file that he'd been holding under his arm. "Normally, I wouldn't ask, Gil… but I really have no choice."  
"Mmhmm…" Gil said, flicking through the case file, with a sideways look at Ecklie.  
"Naturally, I know it's extremely short notice, but you're the only person I could think of."  
Gil looked up at him with a bemused look. "You're lucky I'm not knee deep in my own investigation, Conrad." He said with a sigh. "I'll need all the available evidence."  
Ecklie seemed to deflate with relief. "Thanks, Gil."

Gil waited until Ecklie had gone to get the evidence and looked at his phone. He would try Sara's cell later, but for now-- he had work to do.

If he knew his Sara, she'd want time to think, to be alone, to re-evaluate and regroup. And he knew that he had to let her go… for now.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon**  
_Risty Maskell_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of CBS's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. **__**For non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The persons, living or dead, and events described herein are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. The scene where Sara and Grissom meet at the Monaco is from Season One, Episode Two: Cool Change. I don't own it. CBS does.  
**_

Sara sighed, looking down at her coffee cup. The brown liquid had long since gone cold, and the air hostess had given up trying to coax her with a fresh cup.

The flight was starting to get on her nerves. Shouldn't they be in San Francisco already? What was taking so long? Not for the first time, the brunette shifted uncomfortably in her seat, causing the businessman beside her to glare at her slightly and mutter curses under his breath. Sara ignored him. Trying to concentrate on anything but the flight itself, she grabbed up a magazine and tried to read.

It had been seven long years since she'd been in San Francisco. Seven long years since she'd picked up the phone and heard Grissom's plea to sort out some internal work within his team. Seven years since she'd accepted his offer to become a permanent part of the CSI team in Vegas. She flung the magazine down in disgust, knowing she wasn't going to be able to concentrate on anything except her current thoughts for the time being. She ground her teeth in agitation. Why? Why did life have to be so Goddamned screwy? She loved Grissom, didn't she? She'd accepted his marriage proposal, hadn't she? Figuratively speaking, she should be the happiest she'd ever been. But no. Ghosts from her past had to haunt her. Follow her every step. Creep up behind her. Scare her senseless. She sighed as ghosts of memories floated up from the depths of her subconscious before her eyes.

_Her father's wild gaze as he drunkenly slapped her around, distant voices screaming at him to stop… Her mother, finally snapping and stabbing the bastard with the biggest kitchen knife she could find… Cast off blood splashing over the walls… Her brother, James, screaming and crying while her older sister, Marie, called 911… People, so many people, police and ambulances and social workers… Sara holding the hand of a lovely lady, whom she couldn't remember the name of… Sara and James standing behind Marie as their older sister argued that they'd never be split up… A tearful farewell as James was sent to one home and Marie sent to another, leaving Sara alone… The trial of Laura Sidle versus the people… The dark, shadowy halls of the institution where her mother was incarcerated… The sharp smells of the institution-- the stink of disinfectant, urine, starch, soap… Her mother not recognising who Sara was after having been administered Valium… The cruel taunts of other foster children as they found out how she came into the foster care system… Throwing herself into her studies and avoiding people like the plague… More cruel taunts through high school about her not having a social life, earning names like Geekazoid, Plain Jane and Serious Sidle…_

"Miss?" A voice cut through the fog of her thoughts. "Miss, are you alright?" It was the air hostess. She placed a well-meaning, reassuring hand on Sara's shoulder. Sara looked up at her, confused as to why the hostess was taking such a concerned interest in her all of a sudden. Then she realised she had been crying quietly and hurriedly wiped half-dry tears off her face.  
"Uh… yeah." She muttered, her cheeks flaming red as she spoke. "Yeah, I'm all right."  
The hostess smiled and straightened up. "Well, all right. We'll be landing in San Francisco in about half an hour." She gave a bright, plastered-on smile and discreetly handed Sara a travel pack of Kleenex, which she accepted gratefully, blowing her nose as quietly as she could, but still earning an annoyed glare and muttered obscenities from her neighbour.

Half an hour later, the plane touched down in San Francisco. Sara sat quietly, waiting for all the other passengers to leave before disembarking the plane. Walking slowly up the path, she hoisted her back pack onto her shoulder and sighed. Strange how seven years could change one's perspective. Entering the terminal, she glanced around. Not much had changed. It was still pretty much the same it had been when she'd been seen off by Marie.

Walking toward the luggage conveyor belt, she watched, hypnotised as the carousel went around and around, the spell of her thoughts broken when she finally saw her lone suitcase coming toward her. Picking it up, she dragged it off the belt and headed toward the taxi rank. Reeling slightly from the humidity in the air – something she hadn't been used to since living in the middle of a desert for almost a decade – she climbed into the next available cab. Giving the driver her destination, she sat back and watched the scenery go by, her thoughts and memories once again crowding into her mind, fighting tooth and nail to receive a little attention.

_It had been late at night when the phone rang. Self-confessed as to being unable to sleep, Sara had answered, picking up the phone next to her laptop with her customary, "Sidle."_  
"_Sara?" The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, and it took her a minute to realise who it was speaking to her._  
"_Grissom?" She'd asked in wonderment. Since parting ways at San Francisco airport, they'd never really conversed over the phone, only by email and letters._  
"_The very same." He'd answered, and Sara could detect a smile in his voice._  
_Sara grinned. "What can I do for you at 12.10am this fine morning?"_  
"_I know it's late – or early, if you want to get technical." Grissom said. "Sorry if I woke you."_  
"_You know I don't sleep." She laughed. "I was awake."_  
"_Good. I wouldn't know how to handle the guilt if I had woken you up."_  
"_You? Guilty? Doubtful, very doubtful." She teased. Grissom chuckled slightly. "Anyway, what's up?"_  
"_Well, I was wondering if you wanted a few days of employment." He said, seemingly choosing his words carefully. "I need some internal work done within my team, and you were the first person I thought of."_  
"_Charming." Sara said dryly. "Though, I don't think I feel so bad. If it were someone else asking me to snoop, I'd be offended."_  
"_I'm just an exception?"_  
"_Yeah, I guess you could say that." Sara said with a smile. "When do you want this internal investigation to be done?"_  
"_Soon as possible?" Grissom asked. "I don't know how quick you can get here, but the sooner, the better."_  
"_I can be on a plane first thing in the morning." Sara said with a smile. "How's that sound?"_  
"_Sounds like the best offer I've ever had." Grissom said with humour obvious in his voice. "So, we'll see you around here sometime tomorrow?"_  
"_You betcha. So, you wanna tell me the story behind this internal investigation?"_  
"_One of our CSI's – a rookie – was shot last night." Grissom sighed, and Sara could hear him deflate._  
"_Oh, man… I'm sorry, Grissom." Sara said, closing her eyes and genuinely feeling sorry for her former professor. "And you need me to run questions by the rest of the team and figure out what happened?"_  
"_Got it one. I knew you weren't just a pretty face." Grissom said. "I've got to go… clues to find, cases to solve. You know the deal."_  
"_Sure do." Sara said with a grin. "I'll see you sometime tomorrow."_  
"_See you then, Sara. And thanks."_  
"_No problem." They exchanged farewells and Sara hung up the phone, getting up to go and going to her bedroom to pack a suitcase. Fifteen minutes later, she was back on the computer, purchasing an open return ticket to Las Vegas, Nevada._

_Upon arriving in Las Vegas and renting a motel room, she'd caught a cab to Grissom's address. Getting no answer from her insistent knocking, she'd gone to LVPD, asking for Gil Grissom at the counter, showing the proper ID._  
"_Hi, I'm Sara Sidle from San Francisco. I'm looking for Gil Grissom?"_  
"_Oh, I'm sorry, Ms Sidle." The receptionist said with an apologetic smile. "He's pulling a double shift. He's on a case at the moment."_  
"_Oh. Can you tell me where I could find him?" Sara said with a smile, thanking her lucky stars that she'd thought to drop her suitcase off at a motel first._  
"_I think I heard him mentioning that he was going to the Hotel Monaco." Judy said. "I can give you his cell number if you like."_  
"_Thanks." Sara took the card from her and smiled. "I'll go see if he's there." She turned and walked out to the street, hailing a cab. "Hotel Monaco, please."_

_Arriving at the Monaco a few minutes later, she pushed through the crowd just in time to see three crash test dummies get thrown off the roof. Peering over the top of her sunglasses at the older man in front of her, she smiled. Perhaps a little greyer in the hair, but still the same old Grissom. Showing her ID to the cop keeping the crowd back, she ducked under the crime scene tape and walked up behind Grissom._

"_Norman 'pushed'." Grissom muttered to himself as he snapped photos of the dummies positions. "Norman 'jumped'. Norman 'fell'."_  
"_Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs Roper?" She piped up, a huge grin on her face._  
"_I don't even need to turn around." Grissom said, putting his camera down and turning to face her. "Sara Sidle."_  
"_That's me." Sara said with a grin. "Still tossing simulation dummies? There are other ways to tell, you know."_  
"_How? Computer simulation? No thanks. I'm a scientist I like to see it. Newton dropped the apple, I drop dummies."_  
"_You're old school." She said, shaking her head and grinning._  
"_Exactly. And this guy was pushed."_

"Hey, lady… this the address you wanted?" The cabbie's voice cut through her thoughts. Sara shook her head clear to look out the window and see a quaint looking B&B.  
"Yeah, this is it." Sara said, giving him some money and getting out of the cab, dragging her suitcase behind her. "Thanks."

The cab took off, leaving her in the U-shaped driveway of the B&B, looking up at it. Sara sighed and took the handle of the suitcase and made her way to the front door. Opening it and entering, she felt as though she'd been sucked into a time warp. It was like stepping through time, back to 1982. A bell above the door jingled merrily to signify her entrance.

"Just a minute!" A voice called from somewhere, though Sara couldn't find where from. A minute later, a tall, older woman walked out, wiping her hands on her jeans as she bustled toward the desk. Her brown hair, though flecked with a few grey strands, was cropped into an attractive, short pixie-cut, and her brown eyes were still bright as ever. She wore a long sleeved black shirt and a denim waistcoat, the sleeves of her shirt pushed up to the elbow. "Sorry about that… I was just fixing the filing cabinet… it's busted and--" She looked up and stopped, her eyes widening a little. Sara stood in front of her and took a deep breath.  
"Hi, mom."


	3. Chapter 3

**The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon****  
**_Risty Maskell_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of CBS's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. **__**For non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The persons, living or dead, and events described herein are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.**_

"Sara?" Laura Sidle leaned on the desk and looked at her middle child, as if seeing a ghost.  
"Yeah, mom. It's me." Sara shifted under her mother's curious gaze and tried to smile, tentatively. "How are you?"  
"Well… there's no need to sound so formal!" Laura said, snapping back to reality and walking out from behind the desk, holding out her arms. "How about giving me a hug?"

All Sara wanted to do was drop her suitcase and her back pack and run into her mother's arms, to pretend like she was six years old again and have Laura take all her hurt away with a single kiss to the forehead. But she couldn't. Her lower lip trembled slightly and she cursed herself when she realised she was about to start crying again. Slowly lowering her back pack, she walked forward and embraced her mother. Laura squeezed her tight as she felt Sara's stiff shoulders begin to shake with barely controlled sobs. "Hey…" She murmured, rubbing Sara's back softly. "Hey… what's wrong, sweetheart?"  
"N-nothing." Sara said, not wanting to speak too much in case she lost total control. "I just… it's just that I missed you."  
Laura pulled away and held her daughter at arms length, studying her with concern. "It's not just that, Sara…" She said. "Come on… come into the kitchen, we'll have some coffee. You can tell me all that's happened since I saw you last."  
Sara couldn't answer, but nodded at her mother's offer.  
"Have you eaten? James is in the kitchen. I'm sure he can get you something."  
It was only just then that Sara realised how hungry she was. "Okay…" She said with a nod. "How is James? Marie told me about his accident."  
"Oh, he's fine. Taking to life like a duck does to water again." Laura said with a smile. "James! We have a guest!"  
"Be right out, mom!" A male voice called out from the kitchen. Sara looked up as a tall, good looking man came out of the kitchen. His hair was long and brown, tied in a ponytail. His visible eye, where his mother and sister's were brown, was bright blue, the other covered by an eye patch. He looked at the figure sitting in a chair and frowned slightly.  
"Hey, Jimmy." Sara said, looking up at her brother.  
"Sassy?" James said, recognition flickering in his one good eye. He grinned. "Sassy!" He picked her up and gave her a big hug, causing Sara to laugh a little as she hugged him back.  
"You've grown tall, damn you." She said as he set her back on the floor. "It's not fair. _I_ used to be the tall one."  
"Sucks to be you, don't it?" James chuckled, amused. "Hey, you want some food? I just made chicken salad."  
"If you hold off on the chicken, I will." Sara said with a small smile.  
"Oh, that's right. Marie told us you were a veggie now." He said with a laugh. "Well, hang tight. I'll get you some chicken salad – minus the chicken." He walked back into the kitchen. Laura turned back to her daughter and handed her a coffee.  
"So, you want to tell me what you've been up to?" She asked, sitting across from Sara and taking a sip of her coffee.  
"Well…" Sara shifted into a more comfortable position. "I don't know… where would you want me to start?"  
"The beginning's always a good place." James said, entering the room again and placing a bowl of salad in front of her. "People who start at the end only finish at the beginning and then the whole story gets confused and you have to tell it all over again."  
"Wow, you really make things easy to understand, Jimmy." Sara said dryly.  
"I know. Specialty of mine. Now spill."  
"Well… I'm engaged." Laura nearly choked on her coffee. Jimmy dropped his fork with a clatter. Sara raised her eyebrows at their reactions. "Is that so hard to believe?" She asked.  
"Well…" Laura exchanged a glance with James. "Don't take this personally, sweetheart. But you don't usually let people get so close to you."  
"Times change." Sara said, frowning. "I thought you'd be happy for me!"  
"I am, baby. I am." Laura tried to soothe her. "I'm just surprised, that's all."  
"Surprised about what?" Sara said in a low voice. "Surprised that I can get a boyfriend at all, after what happened with Ken?"  
"Sara…" Laura said, sensing her daughter's temper was starting to fray. "I didn't mean that at all. I'm pleased for you, really, I am."  
"Then act like it." Sara said, her eyes flashing.  
"Hey, Sara… we're sorry, okay? Tell us more about this guy." Jimmy said slowly. "I need to know who my future brother-in-law is, don't I?"  
"Yeah, tell us more." Laura offered. "He must be quite a catch, if he's caught your attention."  
"Oh, don't butter it up, mom." Sara said, rubbing her forehead with her fingers. "Everyone knows I have a bad taste in men. I'd like, just this once, to think that I've made a good choice. Just once!"  
"I'm sure you have." Laura said soothingly. "So, tell us about him. What's his name?"  
"Gil Grissom." Sara said after a pause, looking at her salad and poking it with her fork. "He's an Entomologist."  
"A what now?" Jimmy asked. "What the hell is an Ento…whatchamacallit?"  
"Entomologist." Sara said, looking up at her brother. "He studies insects and stuff. He works at LVPD with me."  
"Ooh… cop?" Jimmy asked.  
"Criminologist." Sara corrected. "He… he used to be my supervisor."  
"Gil…Grissom, right?" Jimmy said slowly, after a pause. "Wait a minute! Isn't that that guy from Berkeley that you wouldn't shut the hell up about? That professor guy? The one you were always emailing and writing to and stuff?"  
"Uh… yeah." Sara didn't look up at either her mother or her brother and missed the surprised, but pleased look they exchanged.  
"Well, congratulations, sweetheart." Laura said with a smile. "I'm really proud of you."  
"Yeah, me too." Jimmy smiled. "Come on… I think you've murdered the salad enough… or do you want to take crime scene photos and launch an investigation?" He teased, earning him a slap upside the head from his mother. Sara managed a weak smile.  
"Jimmy, show your sister up to her room." Laura said, gathering the plates and putting them in the sink. "What do you both say that I call Marie and we'll have a big family dinner tonight?"  
Jimmy looked at Sara with a grin. "Whaddaya say, Sassy? C'mon! You haven't seen Marie for years… and you gotta meet Kaitlyn. She's four now."  
"Kaitlyn?" Sara looked confused. Jimmy rolled his eye.  
"Kaitie. Marie's youngest."  
"Oh." Sara remembered her sister mentioning in her letters about her children. "Yeah, okay…" She said, picking up her suitcase from where she'd left it, only to have it wrestled from her by her brother. "Hey! Jimmy!"  
"You take the back pack. I'll take this." Jimmy said with an air of self-importance. "Come on. Your room awaits you."  
"You are such an idiot." Sara shook her head.  
"But the best idiot you'll find in Tamales Bay." Jimmy said with a smile.

After Jimmy had left her in her room to freshen up before dinner, Sara looked around with morbid fascination. It was almost exactly as she'd left it. The posters of 1980's music groups were still tacked to the walls, the desk was still cluttered with an organised chaos of pens, pencils and books, the only things that had changed were that the closet was bare of all her little girl clothes, since they'd been removed along with her when she'd been taken away by social services, and the bed was made. She slowly unpacked the clothes that she'd put into her suitcase and hung them up, then getting down on her knees to shove the empty case under the bed.

Looking under the bed, she noticed a shoebox, covered with dust, clearly marked 'SARA'S BOX. DON'T TOUCH'. Curious, she pulled it out and dusted it off. Sitting on the floor; she opened the box, suddenly feeling like she needed her rubber gloves and some evidence bags.  
_Don't be stupid, Sidle. This is _your_ stuff._  
Looking through the photos that were stacked in the box, she began to chew her lip absentmindedly. There was a formal family portrait, taken when James was only a baby. Sara couldn't help but smile at the sight of herself, five years old, pigtails askew, dusty marks on her knees peeking out from under her dress. She remembered absolutely_hating_ that dress. Hating it because it wasn't her usual pair of overalls. She set the photo aside, continuing to look through the box. There was a school portrait from second grade. Her sitting there in jeans and a Captain Caveman t-shirt, a gappy smile, half filled by a new front tooth coming through. Sara chuckled lightly. A photo of her parents, standing out the front of their new house with the brand new B&B sign out the front: _Sidle On Inn_. Sara sighed, putting the lid back on the box, not wanting to see any more in case she really did begin to cry. Picking up the box and putting it on the desk, she turned and lay back on her bed, staring up at the Van Halen poster that was tacked to her ceiling.

The trial of Valerie Eckman had gone well. She'd been found guilty of murdering her husband and brother upon finding them in bed together, and had been sentenced to serve two life sentences for cold blooded murder.  
Grissom walked out of the courtroom, loosening his tie when he came out to the street. Standing in the sunshine, taking a deep breath of fresh air, he looked around, stifling a yawn.  
"Gil!" He heard a voice behind him and turned, seeing Ecklie walking toward him. He raised his eyebrows in question toward the assistant director. "Fantastic job in there, Gil." Ecklie said with his trademark smile. "Really nailed them."  
"Well, I did the best I could be the time frame I had." Gil shrugged. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Conrad. I need to get going." He nodded to the man and left, turning on his cell as he went. No messages. He sighed, walking back into LVPD and toward the locker room.  
"Hey, Griss." Said Warrick as the older man entered. "How was court?"  
"It went well." Gil offered a half-smile. "Now I can't wait to get home."  
"That's gotta be a first." Warrick said with a grin.  
"What are you still doing here anyway? Shouldn't you be at home, sleeping?"  
"Yeh, I should. I was just finishing up some work I had here for the higher-ups." Warrick shrugged. "If I ever find the bastard who invented paperwork, I'll kill him myself."  
"Ah, we can lick gravity, but sometimes the paperwork can be overwhelming." Grissom nodded, as if agreeing with Warrick. The younger man raised his eyebrows. "Wernher von Braun."  
"Uh huh." Warrick shook his head and grinned. "I'll never understand you, Griss."  
"Some people would probably take that as a threat," Grissom said, taking his coat out of his locker and looking at him. Offering him a thoughtful glance, he nodded. "See you tonight, Warrick."  
"Yeah…" Warrick said as he watched Grissom leave. "Seeya."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon****  
**_Risty Maskell_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of CBS's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. **__**For non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The persons, living or dead, and events described herein are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. Parts of the italicized scenes are taken from Season Five, Episode Thirteen: Nesting Dolls, and Episode Twenty-One: Committed. I don't own them. CBS does. Lyrics belong to Pink Floyd, "Learning To Fly" and "A New Machine - Part II", both found on "A MomentaryLapse Of Reason".  
**_

It was strange. The bed felt so… empty. Gil sighed as he turned over, wrapping the comforter around himself. He couldn't believe he'd lived like this for so many years. It felt so _lonely_. He sat up, finally realising he wasn't going to get any sleep. Not at the moment. Looking over at the bedside table, he picked up the phone and pressed his speed dial. A slight pause, and then:  
"_Hi, you've reached Sara. I can't take your call at the moment, but leave a message and your number and I'll get back to you! Bye!"_ The tone beeped to signify it had begun recording.  
"Sara…" Gil paused, wondering what to say. "It's Gil. I… no. I'm just calling to see if you're okay. Give me a call sometime, okay? Everyone's asking where you are. You know I'm not that good at making up stories." He chuckled nervously. "Missing you like crazy right now. Uh… I guess… I guess that's all I need to say really. I love you. Bye." He smiled, hanging up the phone. When had he started sounding like such a love-struck teenager on the phone? He'd missed that altogether. Lying back against his pillows, he stared blankly at the wall for a few minutes. He sighed. It was no use. He wasn't going to get any real sleep today. No chance in all nine circles of hell. And he felt a migraine coming on. Great.

Throwing back the comforter and the sheet, he padded to the bathroom, opening the cabinet to find his migraine medication. Opening the small bottle and filling a glass of water, he shucked two pills down his throat. Wetting a facecloth, he walked back to his bedroom, turning on the CD player and climbing back into bed and placing the washcloth over his eyes. The coolness of the cloth soothed him as Pink Floyd's _A Momentary Lapse In Reason _began to play.

He let the music wash over him and lull him into a doze as more memories began to swim before his eyes.

_A restless eye across a weary room  
A glazed look and I was on the road to ruin  
The music played and played as we whirled without end  
No hint, no word her honour to defend_

"_Well, the mind has its filters." Gil said, looking at Sara, who was sitting on the couch, looking so vulnerable. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms right then and there and not let her go. To wipe away her tears and tell her that everything was going to be all right, that he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her._  
"_I do remember the looks." She said quietly. "I became the girl whose father was stabbed to death." She looked up. "Do you think there's a murder gene?"_  
"_I don't believe that genes are a predictor of violent behavior." He said, looking her in the eye._  
"_You wouldn't know that in my house." She looked down again. "The fights, the yelling, the trips to the hospital. I thought that's how everybody lived. When my mother killed my father, I found out it wasn't." Her eyes filled with tears and she began to cry. Gil took her hand and held it as she sobbed out her anguish and rage. He got up from his seat and sat next to her, drawing her into a comforting hug, allowing her to cry into his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and held her close until her sobs were no more than sniffles._  
"_You know that by the time I was twelve, I had had ten broken bones?" Sara asked a while later, after she'd calmed down. "My father didn't care who he hit, as long as he got his rage out on one of us."  
Gil sat quietly, stroking a hand through her hair in an effort to keep her calm. It was a trick he'd learned from his mother at a very young age._  
"_When my mom finally snapped, I was thirteen…" She picked at a loose thread on her shirt. "I woke up to hear them screaming at each other again. And then… it was quiet. I remember mom coming into my room and shaking me, saying she'd done something really bad. That she was gonna be in so much trouble." She had her eyes closed, remembering the memory, a bitter look on her face. "She made me get up and go and see what she'd done. I stood there for ages… or at least, it seemed like ages. Until Marie dragged me into her room with James, while she called 911."_  
"_Not a scene a young child should have to witness." Gil said softly, squeezing her shoulder._  
"_Part of me wants to believe that Mom was drunk… or at least doped up on something." She continued. "All she kept doing was sit next to my father's body and talk to him, as if he was still alive and they were talking about the weather."_  
"_Excessive levels of stress can make a person act differently." Gil nodded. Sara snuggled into his embrace like a small child seeking comfort from a bad dream._  
"_My mom didn't even make it to my graduation. I remember asking her during my weekly visitation. She acted as though she didn't recognize me half the time." Sara sighed. "I was valedictorian in my class. I kept a copy of my speech for her. I still don't know whether she's read it or not."_  
"_I'm sure she has, Sara." Gil said. "You're an intelligent and beautiful person. No matter if she was there or not, I'm sure she was, and is, proud of you."  
Sara looked up at him. "You're a good friend, Gil." She said softly, kissing his cheek lightly. Looking around, she noticed how dark it had gotten. "Wow…" She managed to croak. "I've probably made you miss dinner."  
Gil could have laughed, but he didn't. Instead he shook his head and gave a little smile. "Not at all."_  
"_Could I make you something?" She asked tentatively, and Gil knew she was thinking about the time she'd asked him out to dinner and he'd turned her down. "I mean… I'm not much of a cook, but I can put together a mean grilled cheese sandwich." She tried to add a little humour. Gil smiled._  
"_Well, who could refuse an offer like that?" He asked. "But let me make it." _

He was suddenly jerked from his slumber when the phone rang. Not knowing what it was at first, Gil peeked out from underneath the face cloth, searching for the intruding noise. Finally realizing it was the phone, he reached for it, lifting the receiver out of the cradle and putting it to his ear.  
"Grissom," He said, fighting off a yawn. "Hello?"  
There was no answer. The other end was silent, aside from some light breathing that Gil could hear.  
"Hello?" He said, irritably. "Hello?" When there was no answer for a second time, he hung up the phone in disgust. Damn crank callers.

Looking at the clock on his nightstand, he switched the CD player on again, lowering the facecloth over his eyes and once again, letting Pink Floyd lull him to sleep.

_I will always be here  
I will always look out from behind these eyes  
It's only a lifetime  
It's only a lifetime  
It's only a lifetime_

_He watched her as she leant against the wall, trying to gather her wits about her after her ordeal with Adam Trent. She looked out the window at the rain._  
"_When my father died, my mother came to a place like this for a while for evaluation. It looked the same, it smelled the same. It smelled like lies." She murmured. Gil wasn't sure if she were talking to him or to herself._  
"_You sure you're okay?" He asked softly._  
"_Crazy people do make me feel crazy." She said, looking at him, no evident emotion in her eyes._  
"_If you want, I can have somebody take your place…"_  
"_I appreciate that. I do, I really do, but…" She paused, thinking about what she was going to say next. "I kind of made a decision to move beyond that and ... I really want to finish this case."  
He nodded as Joanne McKay approached and interrupted their conversation. He watched Sara carefully as she accused the nurse of having an intimate relationship with Adam. When Joanne had left, he turned back to Sara. "Why don't you go and get something to eat, Sara?"_  
"_This your way of telling me to go home, Grissom?" She looked up at him._  
"_No." Gil shook his head. "I have a few more things left to do, and I'll meet you back at the lab, okay?"  
Sara looked as though she were about to argue, but decided against it, sighing and nodding. "Okay…" She agreed quietly. "See you back at the lab, I guess."  
Gil watched as she turned and made her way to the exit, before turning back to the nurses station, picking up and studying the piece of broken pottery. After a moment, he headed toward the art classroom._

_After Joanne McKay had been arrest on one count of incest, Gil had left Sara alone to think. He'd gone to his office to finish up some paperwork, and file some closed cases under 'solved'. He'd expected Sara to have gone home, to have slept for a while. He knew that dealing with familiar surroundings, that brought back bad memories could be tiring. He'd experienced it himself too many times over the years and he didn't want one of his best team members to burn out because of it._  
"_Grissom?" he looked up to see Sara standing in his office doorway, looking at him._  
"_Sara… I thought you went home to get some sleep."_  
"_I was just about to…" She said softly. "I just… I just wanted to say thanks."  
Gil raised an eyebrow. "What for?"_  
"_For… I dunno. For being a friend." She said, leaning against the doorframe. "Just for being there… for letting me vent. For listening. No one's really done that for me before."_  
"_What about your P.E.A.P counselor?" Gil asked, leaning on his desk._  
"_He's not exactly what I'd call a 'friend', Grissom." She gave a small smile, pushing off the doorframe and entering the room, sitting in the visitor's seat on the opposite side of Gil's desk. "More like formal acquaintance. He only ever wanted to talk to me about… you know. My family stuff."  
Gil raised his eyebrows. "And that's what I'm _not_ doing?"_  
"_You know what I mean, Griss… you let me talk voluntarily… you let me open my mouth and insert my foot on numerous occasions." Sara shrugged. "My P.E.A.P counselor seems to suffer from pressure of speech; he barely lets me get a word in edgeways."  
Grissom nodded knowingly and smiled. "Well, in that case, you welcome, Sara." He said. "It's good to know that I'm of some use as a supervisor."  
Sara managed a grin, standing up and slinging the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "Are you coming to breakfast?"_  
"_No." Grissom shook his head. "I have all this paperwork to do."_  
"_Well, I guess I'll see you next shift. 'Night, Grissom."_  
"_Good night, Sara." He said as he watched her leave. "Sweet dreams." He murmured to himself._

The phone rang again, once again jolting Gil from his sleep. With a defeated sigh, he sat up, pleased to note that he'd warded off his migraine in time, and picked up the phone.

"Grissom... hello?"  
"… Gil?"


	5. Chapter 5

**The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon****  
**_Risty Maskell_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of CBS's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. **__**For non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The persons, living or dead, and events described herein are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental. **_

It had taken a full afternoon, but Sara had finally remembered to turn on her cell to listen to her messages. Looking at the display screen, she sighed when she saw who the only voicemail had been from. Although she had been expecting it, and missed his voice like crazy, a little part of her mind was dreading calling him. That one little part of her mind that always dreaded that she was going to get a brutal talking to and an even more brutal beating, the one part of her mind that hadn't progressed in age past twelve, the one part that prickled whenever she had a conversation concerning her work with her superiors, fearing she was going to be humiliated. But, better to get the initial phone call over and done with. She chewed her lip as she hit the redial button

"Grissom." The answer had been groggy, as if just woken up. She closed her eyes and apologised silently. "Hello?" Her vocal cords froze and she couldn't make any sounds come out. "Hello?" He was getting irritated. She bit her lower lip hard to stifle the sob that was bubbling in the lump that had risen in her throat. "Hello?" He'd hung up after that, and Sara imagined him glaring at the phone as if it were the technology's fault. She snapped her cell shut and flopped back on her bed, tears running unchecked down the side of her face to soak the pillow. She couldn't do it, could she? It was insane. She loved Grissom so much, and yet… she was scared of him… no, not of him. Of herself. She wiped her eyes roughly with the back of her hand. A thousand thoughts and doubts tumbled about in her head. The what ifs and the why fors taunted her, teased her with their knowledge. She looked at the phone again, and the soothing, reasoning, logical part of her mind shushed the myriad of disturbing and doubtful thoughts.

_Come on, Sidle… don't be dense. He _loves _you. Who was there, insisting on you getting your hand checked after the explosion in the lab? He was. Who came to your rescue when Ecklie was going to fire you? He did. Who was there when you were pulled over? He was. Who was there when you were suspended a week without pay? And let you vent about your family, and didn't say a word against it? He was. He_loves _you. Call him… tell him you love him. He'll understand._

Taking a deep breath, she opened her cell and hit redial again. Biting her lip, she traced patterns on the bedspread as she waited for him to answer.

"Grissom… Hello?"  
"…Gil?" She said softly. "It's me."  
"Sara?" Gil asked, instantly awake. "Oh, honey…" The simple utterance left Sara unable to cope, and the tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she tried to stifle her sobs. "Sara? Are you all right?"  
"Um…" She sniffled slightly. "Yeah… I'm… fine." She squeezed her eyes shut and cursed herself for crying and sounding so weak.  
Gil was silent for a moment, waiting for her to continue. When she didn't, he probed gently. "Where are you?"  
"San Francisco…" She said after a pause, still wiping away tears and wiping her nose on the sleeve of her jacket. Strange how being in a place familiar to one's childhood could make a person revert back to such childish gestures. "I'm… I'm visiting with my mom."  
"Okay…" Gil knew he needed to tread lightly, as this was obviously a sensitive subject. "How is she?"  
"She's good…" Sara dried her eyes and cleared her throat. "She's brought out the welcome wagon and invited my sister and her family over for dinner." She sighed. "Am I ready for this, Gil?"  
"You know I can't answer that, Sara." He said gently. "They're your family."  
"I know… but I haven't seen any of them since I moved to Vegas." She paused. "Hell, I haven't even met some of them."  
"Well, there's no time like the present." He said. "Now or never."  
"Yeah, but I get the feeling that they shouldn't meet me." She said, her voice small. "Who would want me for an aunt, anyway?"  
"Sara, you're great with kids." Gil reassured her. "I mean, look at you with Lindsey. Catherine always tells me that her daughter seems to prefer talking to you than to her mom any day."  
"You're making that up." Sara said, unable to stop a small smile from twitching her lip.  
"On my word of honour, I swear I'm not." Gil said, not missing the change in her vocal pattern. He knew that'd make her smile. "And Darcy liked you too, from what Warrick's told me."  
"Sure. She spent most of the day listening to her iPod." Sara rolled her eyes, still wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I can see how she'd like me."  
"Sara, how many kids have you helped out during the course of your career here? Off the top of my head, I could probably count a dozen." Gil said. "I remember back when you first came to Vegas and I told you to look after that little girl whose family were murdered. You told me that you didn't deal well with kids. Look how you proved yourself wrong."  
"I guess." She sat silently for a minute, once again tracing patterns on the bedspread. She could hear a faint commotion beyond her closed bedroom door. "I have to go… I think I can hear people downstairs."  
"Okay." Gil said after a pause. "I love you, Sara."  
"I love you too, Gil." She said quietly. "Say hi to the team for me?"  
"Sure, I will." He said. "I'll tell them tonight."  
"Okay…" She smiled. "Talk to you later, Gil."  
"Yeah, Sara. I'll talk to you later. Love you."  
"Love you too." Sara hung up the phone and gave a deep sigh. A soft knock at the door made her look up. "Come in?"  
The door opened and a brunette head popped around it and looked at her. "Hey."  
"Hi." Sara said, shifting on the bed, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin upon them. "Come in."  
Marie entered the room and sat on the edge of the bed. "How you been, Sassy?"  
"Fine." Sara said, averting her eyes.  
"You are such a bad liar." Her sister smiled, reaching out and taking on of Sara's hands, squeezing it reassuringly. "Mom tells me you're engaged."  
"Mom would." Sara said, looking up. "Yeah, I am."  
"Congratulations." Marie said with a smile, leaning forward and giving her younger sister a hug.  
"Thanks." Sara hugged her back.  
"You okay?"  
"Yeah… I'm okay."  
"Sara, I know you're not. Your eyes are red, you keep sniffling, and you've got tear streaks on your cheeks."  
"You should be a Criminologist." Sara said with a weak smile. "You don't miss a thing."  
"Tell me what's up." Marie said with a half-smile to let her know that she wasn't going to avoid the question.

Sara took a deep breath and recounted the recent events that had made her realise she needed to bury her ghosts once and for all. She recounted her ordeal under the car, in the desert, Gil's marriage proposal, the bee sting, and last of all, Hannah West. Marie sat silently, waiting for her sister's story to finish before she said anything.

"Sound like you lead an exciting life." She tried to humour the situation.  
"Yeah, I guess." Sara said, looking down and not seeming amused at all. "Marie?"  
"Yeah?"  
"Do you still get memories?"  
"Of that night? Yeah, all the time." Marie said, putting an arm around her sister. "I had to start seeing a therapist, because Daniel was sick of me waking up at night, screaming." Sara looked at her.  
"You still get nightmares?"  
"Yeah. What about you? I mean, besides living with ghosts."  
"I don't get nightmares… but I see a lot of stuff at work that reminds me of when dad was still alive." Sara looked back down at her knees. "For me, the nightmares stopped that night."  
"You're lucky." Marie mused. "I think I'm jealous."  
"Don't be. If I could choose between nightmares and ghosts, I think I'd choose the nightmares."  
"That bad, huh?" Marie hugged her sister close. "Well, let's see what we can do. Talk to mom."  
"She'll just get all selective memory on me like she always does."  
"I'll be there." Marie offered. "Come on. Come downstairs, and you can meet the family. We'll talk to mom tomorrow. For now, it's a family dinner, and we're expected to have fun."  
"Okay…" Sara said after a pause. "Let's go."  
Marie smiled and pulled her younger sister to her feet. "Let's get you cleaned up, first." She herded her sister to the bathroom to wash up.

A few minutes later, the family was seated around the big dining room table. Marie's children, Jack and Kaitlyn, although shy at first, had welcomed Sara into the family readily, excited to meet the aunt that their mother had told them all about. Sara, although quiet, watched the family sit together at ease, talking, laughing, and telling jokes. She felt as though she didn't belong in their happy family. These were people she'd spent the first thirteen years of her life with, not by choice. Three of these people were the ones she'd hidden in closets with, trying to protect from her father's vicious blows, his harsh words. No, these people weren't her family. Physically, yes. Genetically, definitely. But emotionally? Not a chance. She hardly knew these people. She sighed. Why had she come here?

"Aunty Sara?" Kaitlyn was tugging on her sleeve.  
"Hmm? Yes, Kaitie?" Sara was jerked out of her reverie by the little girl looking up at her.  
"You wanna play with me?" Kaitie held up a doll. "Molly-Dolly says you can."

Sara looked around the table and saw her mother smiling at her. Daniel was busy, trying to get Jack to eat his vegetables. Marie smiled reassuringly and James gave a thumbs up.

"Uh… okay." Sara took the doll gingerly and got up from the table, following the little girl to the living room. "So, uh… what are we playing?"  
"Dollies." Kaitlyn looked at her aunt as though she were an alien. "Don'tcha know how to play?"

Truth be told, Sara had never been one to engage in dolls. She was much to busy with trying to ignore her parents fighting and reading books.

"Uh, no… but I'm sure you can teach me." She smiled tentatively. "Think you can do that?"  
Kaitlyn cocked her head to one side. "Okay." She nodded. "Me and Molly-Dolly teach you how to play."

Sara watched as the four-year-old tried to teach her how to successfully play 'Dollies'. Her mind began to wander as she watched the little girl. If it wasn't for the dark brown hair and the green eyes, the little girl would have reminded her of Brenda Collins. She shook her head. Why did Grissom have to remind her of that case in particular? It wasn't his fault, she supposed. He was only trying to help. She smiled as the little girl looked at her.

Kaitlyn smiled a little, putting her doll down and crawling into Sara's lap for a hug. Sara, surprised, put her doll down and wrapped her arms around the little girl.

"Why you sad, Aunty Sara?" She asked quietly. Sara pulled back and looked at the little girl.  
"Who said I was sad, Kaitie?"  
"No one. You just look sad." The little girl's eyes didn't blink. "Is it because you don't have a daddy anymore?"  
Sara was taken aback. "Uh… no, sweetie."  
"I would be sad if I didn't have a daddy anymore."  
"I'm sure you would." Sara said, letting herself slide seamlessly into cop-mode. "Your daddy's great."  
"So, how come you sad?"  
"I'm not sad. I just miss someone very close to me."  
"Like a boyfriend?" The innocence of the question made Sara chuckle, despite herself.  
"Yeah, Kaitie. Very much like a boyfriend." She hugged the little girl to her again.  
"He misses you too?" Kaitie asked, matter-of-factly.  
"I sure hope so." Sara smiled. "Hey, let's go see if there's any ice cream, okay?"  
"Okay." Kaitie perked up at the mention of ice cream. She scrambled out of Sara's lap and helped the woman up. "Chase me?"  
"Sure." Sara obliged, smiling, and she pretended to chase the little girl to the kitchen.


	6. Chapter 6

**The Entomologist And The Loose Cannon****  
**_Risty Maskell_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of CBS's CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. **__**For non-profit, entertainment purposes only. The persons, living or dead, and events described herein are fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons or events is purely coincidental.  
Thank you for all your kind reviews so far! I'm glad you're enjoying this story!**_

Grissom sat at his desk, staring into space. The arm of his glasses in his mouth, he thought about Sara. Hell, when wasn't he thinking about her these days? He'd heard his team when they thought he was out of earshot. Catherine thought he was getting ready to check himself into a mental hospital. Nick and Warrick were trying to think up ways to coax Sara back to her old job. Greg had offered to sacrifice himself at one point, but Gil was sure he was kidding. At least, he was pretty sure. Greg still sometimes surprised him. And he didn't like surprises.

_After his brief conversation with Sara over the phone, he'd decided it was time to get up and perhaps get ready for another night shift. It had taken him all of half an hour to shower, change, and dress. He could never understand how women could spend so long in a shower._  
Let's face it, Gil. You've never really understood women. Period.  
_He chuckled to himself. Maybe not entirely true. He'd learned a few things from Catherine and from Sara… like how never to question a woman when she was upset. That was always a big no-no.  
He'd gotten into his car and begun driving; not realising where he was going until he'd reached his destination._

Rain had begun to fall lightly as he looked out at the neon sign advertising the vegetarian eatery that he'd parked in front of. It was a regular place for Sara to come and eat. Veg-O-Rama_. He'd found her there many times, crammed in a booth, eating a slice of vegetarian pizza as she read one of her numerous criminology journals. He got out of the car and went inside._

"_Oh, hey! Dr Grissom!" The greeting came from the young busboy behind the counter who waved cheerfully to him, having seen him many times._  
"_Hello, Toby." Gil said, sitting down at the counter and shucking off his wet jacket._  
"_No Sara tonight, Dr Grissom?" Toby asked, a polite smile on his face as he set a tall glass of water next to him._  
"_No, not tonight, Toby." Grissom sighed, picking up a menu. "What's good?"_  
"_Well…" Toby nodded, quickly catching on that Gil didn't really want to be talking about Sara at the moment. "Cook just made that Three Cheese and Onion Tart you like. Want me to get you a slice?"  
Gil looked over the menu and smiled. "Put me down for a slice."_  
"_You got it, sir." Toby grinned and wrote it down. One slice, three tart, Cory!" He turned back around and looked around the shop. "Quiet night tonight?"_  
"_Not sure. Haven't been to the lab yet." Gil said. "You here til late?"_  
"_Midnight, give or take half an hour." Toby said with a grin. "You know how Dilla likes to show up 'fashionably' late."_  
"_Ah, yes. Ameredilla. I thought she found a job somewhere else?" Grissom smiled as Toby handed him his plate and shook his head. "Thanks." He reached for his wallet but Toby stopped him._  
"_Nah, Dr Grissom. I owe ya. It's on the house."_  
"_Owe me for what?"_  
"_You got my sister out of a spot of trouble when she was a suspect in that break-in at the supermarket down the street a few nights ago." Toby shrugged. Grissom frowned slightly as he tired to remember. "Mia Poulos." He grinned. "It's okay if you don't remember. I know you guys are too busy to remember a measly little break in."_  
"_The break-in at the Quik-n-Pay?" Grissom asked. He vaguely remembered that case. A cashier had been shot in the shoulder and hit in the back, causing a compound fracture to the third vertebrae. She was still alive, but still in hospital, so he'd last heard._  
"_Yeah, that's the one." Toby nodded. "I heard you nailed the guy."_  
"_We did." Gil nodded, finishing up his tart and wiping his mouth on the paper napkin that Toby had provided him with. "That was good, Toby. My compliments to Cory, as usual." He gave a faint smile. "I'd better get to work."_  
"_Say hi to Sara when you see her." Toby said with a nod. "Haven't seen her for a few days."  
Gil paused and looked at the counter for a moment before looking up at Toby and nodding. "Sure. I'll say hi for you." He said, giving a small wave and walking out of the eatery. Toby watched him go, wiping the bench where Gil had sat. _

Gil was brought abruptly out of his reverie as Hodges bustled into the room. "Hey, Boss. Got your results from the DNA you gave me from your vic. Name's Amelia Poulos."  
"Amelia Poulos?" Gil asked, frowning. "Why does that name sound familiar?"  
"Uh… I ran her prints through AFIS and they came up. I looked through files and found she had her prints put on file because she was a suspect in that break-in at the Quik-n-Pay last week." Hodges said, frowning.  
"Oh, no…" Gil put his head in his hands as he looked over the information sheet that Hodges had handed him.  
"Everything all right, boss?" Hodges raised his eyebrows. Without answering, Gil got up and walked hurriedly out of the office, leaving Hodges staring at his retreating back.  
"Greg! Do you still have your notes on the Quik-n-Pay break-in?" Gil asked as he walked into the break room where Greg was pouring himself a coffee.  
"Yes… yes I do." Greg said after a moment's thought. "Why?"  
"That vic we found tonight… it was one of our former suspects." Gil said, brandishing the DNA information page.  
"The Jane Doe? How do you know?" Greg asked, his mind skipping.  
"The evidence doesn't lie, Greg." Gil gave him a look as if to say _how many times do I have to tell you?_ Greg nodded.  
"Right." He put his coffee cup down and raced out to find his notes on the former case. Gil turned to Warrick.  
"I'll need you to work this case, Rick." He said, sitting down. "I know the vic's brother."  
"Personally involved, eh? Sure, Griss. I'll take it. What's the 411?"  
"Female victim found stuffed in a wire trash can on South Pecos Road." Gil said. "Tongue cut out, nine out of ten fingers cut off. I think our killer was hurried along and didn't have time to fully cut the tenth finger off."  
"How was she killed?"  
"Blunt force trauma to the back of the neck and side of the head. Probably kicked." Gil said.  
"How old?"  
"About 16." Gil looked a bit pale. "Her name's Amelia Poulos. Her brother, Tobias, works at _Veg-O-Rama_ on the corner of San Benito Street and Chinchilla Avenue."  
"How do you know that?"  
"Sara used to go there a lot." Gil shrugged and Warrick nodded knowingly.  
"Right. Okay, Grissom. Me and Sanders will look into it." Warrick put a hand reassuringly on Gil's shoulder. "You want us to keep you updated?"  
"Thanks, Warrick." Gil said gratefully. He got up from his seat and started toward Brass's office. Looking back, he noticed Greg coming back with his notes. "All the evidence is in the Evidence room and with Hodges."  
"Thanks." Warrick waved him off before looking at Greg, who was still busily flipping through his notebook. "C'mon Greggie. You and me on this one, bud."  
"What about Grissom?" Greg asked as he followed Warrick. "Did he hand it off onto you?"  
"Yeah. He can't do it."  
"Oh." Greg shrugged and continued to follow the older man. "Man, Grissom is having a tough time since Sara left, huh?"  
"He'll be okay." Warrick said, trying to sound reassuring. "Grissom's tough. First thing's first, though." He said as an afterthought. "Come on, we'd better go and break the news to Mrs Poulos."

"How're you holding up, Gil?" Jim Brass leaned back in his desk chair and looked at his friend. "Everything okay?"  
"Fine." Gil nodded.  
"Really? You looked like you were crumbling on me there for a day or two." Jim gave Grissom a look. "You holding up okay after Sara's leaving?"  
"Yes, Jim…" Gil closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. "Sara deserves some time off… she's had so much happen to her in the last couple of months." He blinked his eyes open to meet Jim's gaze.  
"You know what I mean, Gil." The stout man said. "You two were like two peas in a pod. I was waiting for the day you were going to be reading each other's thoughts."  
"How do you know she wasn't already?"  
"There are things I'd rather not know about." Jim said with a rueful smile. "And that happens to fall into the 'to much information' category, right there."  
"Nice to know you have some limits." Gil said, shifting his eyes to look at the desk. "I talked to her, you know."  
"Oh yeah? She doin' alright? Tell her we miss her like crazy? She should get back here ASAP?"  
"From what I can gather… she's okay. Just having some personal time." Gil smiled slightly. "She misses everyone here, but I think she has some personal stuff to work out before she actually comes back."  
"She tell you where she was?"  
"No." Gil shook his head. He didn't want everyone asking where she was and badgering him for answers to their obviously numerous questions. He'd tell them where she was in time. He jumped slightly as he heard his phone ring, the shrill noise cutting through the near-silent air. He unhooked the phone from his belt and looked at the caller ID. Answering it, he gave Jim a look. "Grissom."  
"Hey, Griss. Warrick. Just thought I'd better warn you, your guy from the_Veg-O-Rama_ is comin' to see you."  
"What for?" Grissom frowned, ignoring Jim's questioning gaze.  
"He wants to know whether or not I'm lying about his sister. And he wants to ID the body." Warrick said. "And man, he's pissed."  
"Okay, thanks Warrick." Grissom nodded. "I'll be on the lookout."  
"No problem." Warrick hung up, leaving Grissom staring at the cell in his hand.  
"What was all that about?" Jim asked.  
"Murder victim's brother is coming to see me." Gil said. "Should be on the look out."  
"Confrontation? Need any help?"  
"I don't think so, Jim. Thanks." Gil stood, heading toward the door. "But keep an eye open, just in case."  
"You got it." Jim nodded. "All we need right now is a relative going nuts."

"You! You killed her! You bastard!"  
"Officer!"  
"Hey, calm down, sonny! Let's cool it-- OW! Motherf--"  
"O'Reilly!"  
"You killed my sister!"  
"I didn't do anything, Toby. I was here."  
"Little bastard kicked me… Jesus!"  
"O'Reilly! Shut up. Mathers, escort Mr Poulos here into the interview room." Gil sighed as Officer Mathers muscled a still-struggling Toby into the interview room, the young man still cussing and fighting. After letting Toby calm down a little, he entered the room and sat across from him.  
"Don't think I'm talking to you." Toby said, his eyes bloodshot from crying and his face red with anger. "You killed my sister."  
"No, Toby. I didn't kill Mia. We were called out to investigate and found her." Gil said calmly, quietly. He looked at his notes. "Toby, do you know anyone who had a grudge against your sister?"  
"No!" Toby said harshly. "She didn't have an enemy anywhere. She was a Δεν βρέθηκαν λέξεις."  
Grissom raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Beautiful soul?"  
"Yes." Toby sat back as though exhausted. "She was my sister! I was supposed to be protecting her!"  
"Toby, can you tell us about what your sister has been doing in the last few months?"  
"I don't keep around the clock observation." He said moodily. "Look, why are you questioning me? Shouldn't you be out there looking for the_real_ killer? I mean, if it wasn't you, who the hell did this to my sister?!"  
"That's what we're trying to do, Toby." Gil said quietly. "It'll just take us longer if you don't help us."  
Toby stared at Grissom for a long time before he finally spoke. "I know she was getting freaked out by some weird phone calls on her cell a few days after that break-in." He shrugged. "I told her not to worry. It was probably a crank caller who has a jones for scaring people."  
"Did you ever talk to this crank caller?"  
"I didn't actually talk to him. I answered her phone once because she asked me to. The guy hung up pretty quick."  
"Do you know what Mia was doing tonight?"  
"Doing what she does most nights…" Toby shrugged again. "She works five nights a week as a trainee nurse over at Desert Palms."  
"Anyone there might have a grudge against her?"  
"No…" Toby shook his head. "Oh, wait… there's the orderly guy she turned down for a date one time… but other than that, I don't know."  
"Thank you, Toby. I think that's all we need right now." Gil nodded and Mathers escorted the boy out of the room. He stood up and gathered his notes, before walking out back to his office. Looked like it was going to be a _very_ long night.


End file.
